There were scraps still on the box from its wrapping, where some scribbling could be made out that might have been the dock that they boarded at, and the date. Inside was only packing paper, newspaper in various stages of yellowing. On one, a photo of a man covered in jewellery accompanied the title, 'ARTISAN BETS FORTUNE ON HIDDEN GEM'. Another declared, 'SOCIALITE DISGRACED' with a woman snarling at the camera. The third photo in the collection was of a massive fire, claiming, 'ACTIVIST GROUP ESCALATES'.

Meanwhile, Tony was chattering, "No, the--well, yes, if you want to talk about it, I'm willing to explore your stripping talents, but I'd rather there wasn't an unenthusiastic witness. Maybe back in Temba, this place is backwards, they don't even know what a soldering iron is, I'm working with a handicap. Stop moving." He had dumped the frog costume onto the corpse to roll back up onto his feet and tug at Cayde's cravat for him, where he could look over the box again as well, like anything could have changed with it between now and the last time he looked at it.